After the Jump
by VampirePrincessMyu
Summary: 10 years after the events of the gallery, Gerry and Ib find themselves together again, and they must face a new terror. Will they be able to escape this time?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 **

Gerry kept staring at the handkerchief in his hand, recently washed, intently. As the smoke from his cigarette swirled lazily around him, he kept remembering the events of the exhibit. His memory, of course, was a little fuzzy, since it all happened ten years ago. He wondered how Ib was doing. She would be nineteen now and possibly in college. He desperately wished that he had at least asked for her number, but considering she was only nine at the time that would have looked especially suspicious to the other patrons of the exhibit. The handkerchief, though, was his only life line; the only thing that reminded him of her. The room they were in when she used it to quench the blood was all too vivid: the paintings of those disturbing blue dolls, the words written in crayon saying less than amicable things, the story of a young girl that desperately wanted a family and friends but couldn't because she was one of the paintings that haunted them.

All that was all in the past now, he told himself. He put out the cigarette and then folded up the handkerchief neatly, making sure there were no creases. He carried it lovingly to his bedside table and laid it in its usual spot, a little, sophisticated black box. He sat at the edge of his bed and stared at the floor. He knew he had to keep his promise; he had to find Ib.

"But where do I start looking?" he said out loud.

The phone rang, making him jump. He lunged at it and quickly answered with a stern hello. He softened his voice when he heard his mother's own angry voice.

"Gerry! You haven't called your mother in a while."

"Yes, I'm aware mom. I was meaning to, it is close to the holidays after all. How's dad?"

"He's doing fine," she sounded defeated. "He still wants to try going to the exhibit coming to town."

"Who's?"

"Some man, Guertana. You know how obsessed he is with his paintings."

A chill ran down Gerry's spine, but also warmth. Maybe…

"Hey mom. Let's all go. I'll be there in a few hours. We can go tomorrow."

"Sweety, are you sure you can drive all the way over here? It is getting rather late."

"Mom," Gerry sighed, barely containing the chuckle. "It's only three. I'll be there by seven, tops. I'll see you then."

After saying their goodbyes, Gerry put down the phone, and smiled to himself, but the dread was still with him. For one, he would be stepping into another of that man's exhibits. For another, he would probably see Ib. After all, her family loves his works. Though, like him, she would probably try to avoid it.

"It's worth the drive," he sighed to himself.

He packed whatever he needed, careful to put the box with the handkerchief safely nestled between clothes, and rushed towards his car. At this time there would be no traffic.

As soon as he stepped outside, however, a strong, menacing breeze blew through his purple hair, messing it up. Something didn't feel right. In fact, it felt exactly like those times when he and Ib were in the exhibit. He looked around cautiously, making sure there were no creepy sculptures or blood thirsty women paintings anywhere near his vicinity. Of course, he didn't see anything. When he got to his car, he cursed out loud. On the passenger door was what looked like yellow paint, spelling out the words:

** Y.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It was the day that Gerry and his parents would be going to the new Guertana exhibit. Usually the days where his parents lived were much more blue and much more cheerful than this. Obviously, his parents were not aware of the writing on the passenger door, since Gerry had scrubbed that off as soon as he arrived at a rest stop the day before.

"What's wrong, Gerry? You seem tense."

"I'm fine, Dad," Gerry mumbled, helping his mom and dad into the car.

"I'm so excited about this exhibition," Gerry's dad announced. "Guertana is so talented. I sometimes feel like if the paintings are alive."

You don't know the half of it…Gerry thought to himself.

"I especially like the one about the Red Woman. She's so beautiful. I wonder if she was a real person?"

"According to Guertana's history, she was," Gerry answered. "She was a woman that only wanted him for his money."

"Typical woman," his dad scoffed. He later let out a yelp when Gerry's mom smacked him with her purse.

When they arrived at the museum, they found parking almost immediately, though it appeared to be rather full.

"Guertana sure had a lot of fans," Gerry's mother breathed, getting out of the car and looking at the big blue sculpture of the melting woman that decorated the entrance.

As they walked past her, Gerry kept staring at her, almost expecting her to look at him.

He didn't expect for her eye to wink.

Terrified, he zip lined inside, and was able to catch his breath when he found his parents at the reception desk. His dad looked at him with concern.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"N-nothing…I…"

"It's those damn cigarettes. I still don't know where you got that disgusting habit from."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, let's just look at the damn paintings."

Gerry's parents were like children in a candy store, taking in all the paintings, while Gerry just kept staring at them, just waiting for them to literally come to life. He excused himself from his parents and walked through the exhibits himself, double checking all the paintings. Most were the same, like the ones he saw when his life changed forever. One was rather different, though he knew it was a different version of one he had seen then. It resembled the Lady in Red, but her hair was tied up instead of loose, and her eyes were red as well, sort of like Ib's…

"That doesn't mean anything, get a grip on yourself," he muttered to himself, aware of how crazy he looked to the people around him. Smiling awkwardly, he kept walking around the museum, until he reached a sculpture that was all too familiar: the red rose. The plaque introducing it was exactly the same:

** "Beautiful at a glance, but if you get too close, it will induce pain. It can only **

**blossom in wholesome bodies."**

There was a young woman looking at the rose, very closely, very intently. Gerry couldn't help but check her out, as she was rather beautiful and curvy. Her long, loose hair was covering the sides of her face, so he couldn't see her eyes.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked softly, still looking at the sculpture, but obviously talking to Gerry.

"U-uum…yeah. It's gorgeous…"

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully.

It was a few moments before she spoke again.

"I remember having a rose like this. Beautiful, wonderful. Every time I would touch it, it would hurt. But, of course it would, it has thorns. So I learned to just touch the petals…and the rose never hurt me. I kept having nightmares, and in them…"

She looked down at the floor, clasped her hands behind her back, and sighed a long, deep sigh. Still Gerry couldn't see her eyes, but he had a feeling he knew who this was.

"I kept having the same nightmares. Except my rose was…blue."

"Blue rose…how beautiful and surreal."

There was a long silence again, and Gerry cleared his throat.

"I don't know if you remember me."

"I could never forget you…

Gerry."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Ib, for all intents and purposes, was all grown up. Gerry wanted to still see her as his little sister, the one that he would protect and make sure she was safe from the evil paintings, and Mary. It was nearly impossible, however. She was not a little girl anymore. She had womanly curves and luscious red eyes, unique and rare.

"So you still remember me…"

She giggled. "Of course. I can't forget you, Gerry. You were the one that saved me and protected me all that long time ago. Though, I still have the nightmares. You can't protect me from those…"

"I wish I could…"

She smiled, and it was the prettiest thing he'd seen in a while.

"So if you still have those nightmares…why did you come here?"

She frowned and crossed her arms, contemplating. "I felt like I needed to…I felt like I was being called…again…"

"I felt like I was called too…but the main reason I came here was because…I had a feeling I would see you again. I needed to give you this…"

Gerry reached into the pocket of his long coat that held the box which contained her handkerchief. It wasn't there.

"Huh?"

He kept reaching into every pocket, but felt nothing. Panicking, he even took off his coat and turned it upside down, to make sure that the box really wasn't there.

"This isn't happening…"

"What's wrong?"

"I…"

The lights flickered on and off. Ib and Gerry looked up at the ceiling, goose bumps rising. The lights flickered for a few more seconds, and then continued normally, as if nothing had happened. Ib and Gerry looked around, fear rising in their hearts.

There was no one in the museum.

"Oh no…" they both whispered, and they both instinctively clutched at each other.

A dripping sound could be heard throughout the museum, albeit faint. After deciding to unhook themselves from each other, Ib and Gerry decided to explore, because there was nothing else they could do. It felt just like old times, except more sinister. Following the dripping sound, they checked out the paintings. As far as they could tell, they were all still paintings. When they reached the painting of _"Your Dark Figure,"_ it meowed softly. The lights flickered on and off again, and as they kept walking the dripping sound got louder and louder. Ib had a feeling she knew what painting the _drip, drip, drip_ was coming from.

They reached the large painting, _"Fabricated World"_ and stared at it closely. It was fuzzy and distorted, but they knew it was the painting. There was the _"Lady in Red" _at the right, but a noticeable change in her appearance startled Ib. Instead of having loose hair and blue eyes, she had hair that was in a ponytail and red eyes, that looked exactly like hers. Unnerved, Ib looked at the rest of the painting, noticing the mannequin heads on the lower left corner, all of them with blood flowing down their eyes, like tears.

"This is the painting, but, it doesn't look the same."

Ib nodded at Gerry's observation. They both noticed that the frame had disappeared, but neither of them walked into it. Ib grabbed Gerry's hand, and gave him a slight smile.

"Will you protect me again?"

Gerry squeezed her hand gently, announcing his affirmation. He returned her smile.

"Ready?"

Nodding, Ib took a deep breath, as did Gerry, and, once again, they both plunged into the nightmare that was Guertana's work.

A shadow moved across the surface of the painting, and a light, tingling, almost sinister laugh of a young woman bounced off the walls.


End file.
